


Flying Practice

by ecrituredelafangirl



Series: Miserable Quidditch [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Courf's a chaser, First Kiss, Hufflepuff!Courfeyrac, Javert's the astronomy teacher, Jehan's a seeker, M/M, Quidditch, Ravenclaw!Jehan, because Stars, more background characters, on the Quidditch pitch, that's how I sort them anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredelafangirl/pseuds/ecrituredelafangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courf's down.  But whether that's because his team lost the Quidditch final last weekend or because the opposing team's Seeker had been brilliantly talented and beyond cute is anybody's guess. (Although Musichetta's going with the seeker. And Musichetta has a tendency to be right.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying Practice

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic here! Hi! Hope you like it! :)

It came naturally to him - Quidditch - as almost everything did. He had played with his sisters at home - hence the reason he'd made it onto the team in his second year. He was the best chaser - the best player, even - that Hufflepuff had. And still, not even Courfeyrac had anything on the sprite-like seeker that was taking Ravenclaw by storm. 

No one else even had a chance at the cup this year. Combeferre was thrilled, of course. His team was a cinch at victory - he had a right to be. But Courfeyrac was still kinda sore over it. 

Musichetta caught him moping once or twice and punched him in the arm. 

"At least we gave them a run for their money," she said, cocking one exquisite eyebrow. "We could be Slytherin, you know. They didn't have a fucking chance - what with Cosette out for their last game and Ep in detention every other practice. They don't have our chaser line-up either." She shrugged, then turned and smirked at him. "At least he's cute, you know." And then she winked, punched him on the arm again. Then she was gone. 

And he was alone again. 

The kid was fifteen, he thought, and he came out of nowhere. He hadn't been on the team until this year - he had merely been the quiet kid, writing poetry in the back of class or picking flowers out by the lake on sunny afternoons. Courf had barely noticed him. But, now he couldn't get away from him. 

Not even right now.

Deep in thought, he hadn't noticed the footsteps coming down the hall, the murmured conversation between ghost and human...nothing. But, suddenly, the boy was before him and the conversation stopped. When Courf looked up, the ghost was gone, but there he was, his hair braided back, a faded blue and overlarge sweater buttoned wrong on his thin frame. He was smiling gently, almost shyly, at Courfeyrac, a flower blooming a rainbow tucked behind his ear. 

"O, hello!" the boy chirped cheerfully, and Courf found himself staring as a blush dusted his cheeks.

"Hello," Courf finally answered.

"Courfeyrac, right?" he asked brightly, and Courf nodded slowly. "I'm Jean - Jehan - Prouvaire..." he said quickly. And his face went from a minor pink to a major red.

"Jehan," Courf said lowly. "Nice."

"I think so," Jehan said shyly. And Courf found himself smiling. Jehan saw this and brightened considerably.

"You know... I was just heading down to the Quidditch pitch for some...flying practice." It was just then that Courfeyrac realized he had a broom slung over his shoulder. "Would you like to come with me? I wouldn't mind some company...someone to practice with."

"You need flying practice?" Courf found himself blurting. Jehan's grin faltered a little and he nodded, turning slightly pink behind his freckles. And Courfeyrac wasn't sure why (maybe Musichetta was right - he was cute - maybe that was it), but he found himself standing. "Just let me get my broom. I'll met you down there in a couple minutes."

Jehan smiled brightly as he skipped off.

(And Courfeyrac was left with a warm feeling in his chest, in his abdomen, and he couldn't quite place it. He liked it, though, he thought, as he sprinted down to his common room, into his dorm, under his bed, seizing his worn out Nimbus whatever and then sprinting out. Why he was going so fast, he was unsure. Why Musichetta gave him this knowing smile as he passed, before tapping R who looked up and then smiled the exact same way, he was even less sure.)

"That was fast," Jehan said, hovering low as Courfeyrac walked onto the pitch. Courf grinned as he swung a leg over his broom and then rocketed into the sky. He took a lap, glad for the wind in his hair again. It was familiar and calming - even though he hadn't realized he'd needed calming.

"I was in a hurry," Courf answered, his smile coming easier now, his normal manner returning. He hadn't realized how off-color he'd been feeling until he got up in the air. "I had things that needed doing."

And Jehan smiled his glowing-star smile, his hair falling out of his braid already. And Courfeyrac, his muscles now loose and free of some of the previous tension he had been feeling, found himself liking it. 

"So, flying practice huh?" he asked. And Jehan turned pink again in the fading sunlight. 

"Yeah," he said softly, "...you know I actually just wanted to spend time with you... I haven't actually thought farther than the asking. I didn't think you'd say yes."

And Courf flew next to him, hovering, his brow furrowed. "Why wouldn't I say yes?" he asked. And Jehan shrugged. 

"Because... I didn't think you liked me very much... or maybe you figured I liked you too much..." His face was nearly red and he was biting his lip. He chanced a look at Courfeyrac to find the other boy smiling at him. 

"Jehan, there's no such thing as 'too much'," he answered. And then he flew away from the boy. There was an uneasy feeling in his stomach and it was making him nervous. He flew another lap around the pitch just to clear his head. 

"So... You don't-" There was a question, but the wind was against Courfeyrac's ears and he didn't hear it. He pulled up short and looked over at Jehan. 

"What?" he called. And the boy took about half a second to rocket over. 

"You don't... You don't dislike me then?" Jehan said. His voice was so soft it was nearly silent. The sun chose that moment to dip below the horizon and plunge the landscape into dusk. 

"Why would I dislike you?" Courfeyrac said, dumbfounded. 

"Because... I don't know... I may or may not be the reason your team lost our game last weekend. And you've seemed...upset...all week." Courfeyrac almost stared at him. 

"My team just isn't up to your skill level, Jehan. It's no fault of yours that they're not," he answered slowly, watching the words register in the other boy's eyes. "And it's not that my team isn't good - they're kickass. It's just... You're kind of extraordinary. And that's awesome - not a bad thing."

And he enjoyed Jehan's soft smile before taking off again. And this time Jehan took off in the opposite direction and, faster than anything, nearly lapped Courfeyrac. The boy swung around, rolled through the air, took several dangerously deep dives before pulling up, grinning from ear to ear. And something in Courf's chest fluttered when he saw that. 

It was almost...an attraction...which was odd, he thought idly. Not that he hadn't been attracted to anyone before - Courfeyrac lived in an almost permanent state of remorseless attraction. It had just never felt quite like this before. Not that he minded, really...

It was practically pitch dark, but for the glowing of the moon and the twinkling of the stars when he landed. Jehan followed slowly, gazing at the sky, seemingly in awe. When his feet touched the ground, he didn't even look at Courfeyrac before starting to speak. 

"Wouldn't it be wonderful to know the names of every star?" he said softly. 

"Don't they teach you that in astronomy?" Courf asked bluntly, cocking an eyebrow. 

"I know... But I've never been very good...in astronomy," Jehan admitted. He gave Courfeyrac a shy look from under long, strawberry-blonde lashes. 

"Well... You could go to Professor Javert-"

"I was kind of asking for a tutor," Jehan said bluntly, his voice becoming a shade deeper. He then covered his face with his hands as his cheeks bloomed red. And Courfeyrac stared at him, a little dumbfounded. "And I heard you got an O on your Astronomy OWL last year."

And now it was Courf's turn to blush. "O," was all he could think to say at first. 

"I'm sorry if that's too forward-"

"No, that's fine-"

"I just-you-and me-"

"I'd love to do it-"

"And - what?" 

I'll tutor you in astronomy, sure," Courf shrugged. "Although a Hufflepuff tutoring a Ravenclaw ought to garner considerable attention." 

And Jehan grinned a wickedly pretty grin. "Fuck House conventions. We're more than our House qualities."

And Courfeyrac found himself smiling in spite of himself. He loved his House, sure... But some people set so much stock by their sorting sometimes and, because of that, it took him a terribly long time to realize he was more than loyalty and hard work and the like. He was...glad Jehan felt the same. 

"So...tomorrow night in the library sound good to you?" Courf said. 

"From seven until Mabeuf kicks us out?" Jehan smiled. 

"Sounds good to me, Courf smiled back. Something fluttered in his chest again. And, for a minute, he found himself lightheaded, until his mouth pressed gently to Jehan's, who went somewhat pliable at the touch after a millisecond of stunned rigidity. And then his arms went about Courfeyrac's neck and he tilted his head to kiss deeper. 

And Courfeyrac loved it. Granted, Courfeyrac loved kissing, and Jehan was rather exceptional at it. But, it wasn't just that. All the tension in Courfeyrac's body was gone, even the tension he hadn't realized he's been feeling. He felt wonderful, with his mouth pressed against Jehan's, the boy's tongue tentatively tracing his lower lip. 

And when Jehan pulled away shyly and whispered something about seeing him tomorrow before grinning and darting off, Courfeyrac merely smiled, his fingers against his lips in surprise, not caring if this was confusing in the least. He was happy.

He put his broom on his shoulder and headed back.


End file.
